A onetime dream
by kurobara chou
Summary: Noah and exorcist, with love that was a sin. they could only watch as they fell, living the onetime dream that could only be seen when they were together. TYKAN ONESHOT.


**Hello all. This is… very random, I admit, but I just had to write it. I will get down to writing amare odisse soon. Listen to 'roku tousei no yoru' and 'set fire to the rain' and '****一念执著****'**

**while reading it! Because I was listening to those when I was writing this. Enjoy…..**

_-tyki-_

Sometimes he questioned his existence.

Sometimes he wondered why he was given this duty, this role, and this road in life.

Why couldn't he be normal? Laughing with his human friends, it was almost surreal. It was like a dream, a onetime glimpse of happiness that could only be a mirage. A normal human life. A wife, children, and a dog.

Sure, he wouldn't be able to escape human problems, old age, sickness, the never-ending ebbing of time, but for the slightest semblance of normalcy, it was worth it.

As he killed, as his hand mercilessly crushed people's hopes, dreams, and lives, he could feel his soul ebb, little by little. Kill. Was that all he could do? Was humanity really measured by you deeds, your sins? He knew, for a fact, that he was no more inhuman than any man on the street.  
>Or was he?<p>

_-kanda-_

Every day. The pattern.

Kill. Sleep. Eat. Kill. Sleep. Eat  
>Kill.<br>Kill.  
>Kill.<br>Kill.  
>Kill. <p>

Those pale hand's of his, they never knew care. Hands that only knew destruction could never give life.

Those pale hand's that had crushed the dreams and hopes of countless fallen souls.

Salvation? Who were they kidding?

All that there was, was the deep dark abyss of death.

The morbid depths that only an empty soul would willingly venture into. Not that he wouldn't try.

Bound to this earth, was not salvation.

It was depressing really, to know that there was no true peace, no true salvation.

And all he could do was to hack at the briars, until they consumed him, swallowing his soul, his sword, his determination, and leaving more thorns in the way of others.

In this world of hopelessness, what mattered but the heat, the emotions of the moment?

_-_

As their lips met.

They knew this was the end.

The sweet end that would kill them both, yet they accepted it like a fly rushes into the flame.

A onetime experience of happiness.

Then death.

They didn't really mind.

After all, once one had experienced true happiness, what more meaning would there be in life?

Nothing at all.

In the battlefield, sounds of death and destruction enveloped everything. They fought. Blade against tease, hand against hand, soul against soul. From the relentless flurry of blows, they saw each other's pain. As they fought, wearing each other down, chipping away at their souls, they couldn't help but see.

See the man within.

See the blazing soul, bared for the world.

See their world slowly crumble as they lost themselves in each other's eyes.

The blade stopped. The whirling mass of butterflies stopped.

Everything stopped, save their hearts.

And in that tumbling mess, round and round in looping time, their eyes met.

A contract of sorts, sealed with a kiss.

Two pairs of lips, moving as one, tongue caressing, exploring probing.

Searching, in the depths of each other's soul, forever searching.

For what, exactly?

Well, they would only know if they found it.

Animalistic, it was so apt, how they scrambled, clawed, bit and scratched.

Like two beasts, who knew not of love and affection, they tumbled through the rubble, trying their hardest to give each other care.

It was so tender, yet so rough.

Oh, what an oxymoronic existence!

When would they part? They could have continued for eternity, there in the shadows of the battlefield.

A shout, a call.  
>For retreat.<p>

Drawn apart by their duties, their lives, their roles.

Parting was a sweet sorrow.

Which fool said such frivolous words? 

A fool.  
>They were all fools.<p>

_-tyki-_

In his dark and twisted world, everything was ugly.

In his world, where everything was ugly, he was the most beautiful.

From the moment his laid eyes on him, he had already fallen so far that nothing could ever pull him back.

His face, his skin, his hair, and mostly, the cold fire that blazed in his eyes, fiery, yet empty, much like his own.

From the start, the death threats, the encounters, to this very day, with him panting and moaning and crying on his very bed, he knew that there was no going back.

_-kanda-_

His ashen skin, so grey, dull, and dark, like his life.

Was god playing a prank?

Was this all an amusing satire?

He didn't know. He only knew he had it bad.

What could he have expected anyway? In his world, where everything was so dark and dismal, he was the light.

The warmth that nurtured the dark flower in a closet.

He knew, he was pathetic. Clinging on to this warmth. Wanting more, wanting,

Wanting. 

What exactly was it that he wanted?

Care? Concern? Love?

The feel of human warmth? Oh, how he wanted to break into mirthless laughter, for the one he wanted was not even human.

_-_

From the day they met, since they had found each other, all they knew was emptiness. That very fact has not changed.

His knees were weak.

As he fell to the ground before him, he knew he would continue to fall.

As he helped him up, and as their eyes met, on that day, the unexplainable connection had already forged itself.

They knew this was wrong.

But they could not help but look forward to it.

And fall deeper.

And fall deeper into each other's arms.

Fall deeper into this idiocy that was their love.

Fall deeper into this insanity that they both created.

Right then, in the back alley of pub, as they sinned in the world of impurity, the heated flames between them seemed to engulf all the dirt and grime of the world. Their love, or was it even love? would burn through the sins of centuries.

Hurried, for they never knew when it would all end, when they would have to turn against one another. Heated moans, lips pressed fervently against each other, hand fumbling, rushing in the haze of lust. Slipping, sliding, their bodies were in constant motion, producing the delicious friction that they both craved. Finally, they became one, moving in tandem in the shadows, gasps and moans masked by the constant pounding of blood. A whisper, as a ashen hand threaded through strands of darkness. A sigh, as a single tear trickled down a pale cheek. A gasp, as pale hands carved rivulets of blood on an ashen back. A whimper, as blood trickled down trembling thighs. A scream, as skin slapped against skin.

Their exchange seemed to go on forever. For eternity, two foes joined hands, exchanged heat, loved, together. The irony, oh! The irony!

_-tyki-_

Why he continued to do this, he didn't know.

With each passing day, as he longing for him grew, he could feel a stirring of distaste in his very soul.  
>The darkness was calling.<p>

Drawing him back, away from his momentary light.

After all, his existence was meant in darkness.

The white part, the true part of him, wanted to rebel. But honestly, he did not even know which part was himself.

Maybe both.

Just like how he loved him, with both parts of him, he continued the endless argument.

Was he clinging on to him, just like he was clinging on to his white self?

Was he just means to remain human?

What did it matter, after all?

All he knew, was the inexplicable draw between them, like two magnets.

With the turn of a pole, they would repel. But one attracted, could never be separated.

It was with that attraction did he grasp his pale hand in his, never to let go.

It was with that attraction did he hold him, over and over, tirelessly.

Into eternity.

After all, they had all of eternity, didn't they?

_-kanda-_

Sometimes, he smiled.

He didn't know how he did that.

His pale face, forever etched with a frown. So different from his ashen features.

Ashen features that softened, glowed, with happiness.

Happiness.

His smile, was so bright, it burned.

Burning an image into his mind.

Happiness

What a foolish term, yet humans always swarmed towards it.

Who was he kidding?

He wanted happiness too.

Stupid.  
>Stupid.<br>Stupid.

What happiness?

Especially from his enemy.

But, yet, he wanted it.

Did he love him?

Such a foolish question.

-

Maybe, if they had met somewhere else, and as someone else, their feelings could be something more. But right now, at the moment, for the rest of eternity, who they were would not change.

Maybe?

One could only hope.

Maybe after the war. After everything, they could meet again.

As equals, as friends, as lovers.

Away from prying eyes, no longer in the secret darkness would they profess their love.

What foolishness.

Hoping for something that would never come.

He knew that he would not live to see the end of the war.

He knew that he would go down fighting, gasping his last breath, cursing everything in the world.

He knew that he'd rather die than surrender.

Oh, the cruel cruel world.

In this cruel world, you were the most beautiful.

And you were the most ugly.

And I loved you.  
>And I loved you.<p>

Love.  
>Love?<p>

Bah! Such useless things could not be compared to what they felt.

The burning desire, the endless need.

But the feelings between enemies, between people who could never be together, could only be a sin. A sin, because they were both men. A sin, because of their race, their age, their very souls. A sin to be Noah and exorcist. A sin to care.

A sin.

Their love was a sin.

How true.

Each of his caresses was a sin, liquid fire, but all he could to was to arch and gasp and take it.

Each of his breathy moans was a sin, but all he could do was to bury his face into long dark tresses and continue.

In the dark alley, in each other's embrace, they sinned together, living the onetime dream that could only be seen when they were together.

**How was it? Please review. Sorry for any confusion with the viewpoints though, I hope it doesn't hinder the feelings of the story. Sigh….. life is such a painful yet joyous experience. **


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